


Freelance Good Guys: The Sundown Room

by TheGreys (alienjpeg)



Series: Looming Gaia [11]
Category: Freelance Good Guys
Genre: Adventure, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Animal Death, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Centaurs, Disturbing Themes, Elves, Fantasy, Friendship, Happy Ending, Horror, Humor, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Magic, Suicidal Thoughts, Team as Family, Transformation, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 23:23:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjpeg/pseuds/TheGreys
Summary: In the dead of the night, when the moon’s full and bright, the beast spreads its blight, so beware of its bite! What happens when a lycanthrope forgets to lock down on the full moon? The Freelance Good Guys are about to find out.





	1. Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> This story can read on its own, but it's technically part of the "Freelance Good Guys" series. It'll make more sense if you read them in order.
> 
> In 2017 I wrote "Monster by Moonlight" as my Halloween contribution. Consider this 2018's Halloween story. :)
> 
> Please heed the tags for content warnings.
> 
> For concept art, lore, and worldbuilding stuff check out the masterpost: https://loominggaia.tumblr.com/post/175087795478/looming-gaia-masterpost

##  **[CHAPTER 1:** **SUNSET]**

 

_SPRING, 6005_

 

     On this fine morning in mid-Spring, Captain Evan Atlas invited every mercenary in the compound to celebrate his birthday with him.

 

“Food and drinks are on me!” he said.

“Your company is the only gift I need!” he said.

“I’ll be locked up before sunset, I promise!” he said.

 

     But the mercenaries hesitated, for Evan’s birthday just happened to fall on a full moon this year. He got an earful of last-minute excuses.

“I’m just so busy,” they said.

“I feel too ill,” they said.

“I have other plans,” they said.

 

     So Evan sat alone in the dining hall that afternoon, sulking over all the things lycanthropy had robbed him of. He raised a bottle of bourbon to his lips. As much as they cared for him, as much as they did for him…At the end of the day, Evan’s friends would always see him as a hazard.

 

     And they were justified in feeling that way, he thought. How could they not, when he had transformed into a beast and _cannibalized his own father_ all those years ago? Of course he was not to be trusted. There was nothing he could ever say or do to earn that from them.

 

     Then in the midst of his self-loathing, he heard the heavy doors groan behind him. Afternoon light poured into the dim dining hall and so too did four mercenaries. His personal crew. His best friends. Not just mercenaries under his employ, but the people he considered “family”.

 

     Lukas, Glenvar, Alaine, and Jeimos came bounding into the room. They were a flurry of smiles and laughter, joking amongst themselves until the scene before them sunk in. They froze then, falling into silence when they saw at all the empty seats around the long table.

 

     There sat an uneaten feast and bubbling drinks going flat, and at the helm of it all was their miserable looking captain kissing his third bourbon. He nearly dropped the bottle, perking up when he saw his friends.

 

     “Oh,” began Jeimos, “and here I was, thinking we were late…”

Evan nearly knocked his chair over when he stood up. With a big toothy grin he blurted, “Guys! I’m so happy to see you! I thought for sure no one would come.”

 

     Alaine turned, looking all around the room once more. “Are we the only ones here? I thought you invited the whole compound.”

Evan’s smile faded. He let out a sigh and sank back into his chair. “I did,” he murmured. “But I suppose…Well, being a full moon and all…”

 

     “You sayin’ they lost their nerve?” Glenvar queried with a quirk of his yellow eyebrow. “Those jelly-boned bastards! It ain’t like yer a mongrel under the _sun_. It’s barely three in the afternoon fer gods’ sakes!”

 

     Evan shrugged. “I can’t say I’m pleased about it, but I have no right to blame anyone either. I appreciate you guys being here. It means a lot to me.”

 

     “You can always count on us. Love ya, Atty,” Alaine told him, her blue lips spread into a grin. She hooked her arm around his shoulder and whooped, “Now are we gonna get sloshed or what?”

 

     “Wait,” said Lukas. He was holding a paper box in his hands, all wrapped in gold ribbon. He set the box on the table before Evan and continued, “You should open this now, before you’re too drunk to appreciate it. It’s from all of us.”

 

     Evan glanced up at them, then back to the box. “If you insist,” he said. The ribbon came free with a tug and he lifted the lid, revealing a flash of rich blue fabric inside. The mercenaries watched with anticipation. Evan pulled the fabric out of the box, stood up and watched it drape down to his knees. It was a hooded cape of the finest quality, much finer than the tattered rag his old cape had become over the years.

 

     “A new cape! My word, it’s beautiful!” exclaimed Evan, turning the garment all around. The edges were adorned with golden embroidery, the lining stuffed with a layer of feathers. But there must have been something else in there too; something remarkably heavy. Not heavy to _him_ of course, but he could only imagine the average man dragging his feet in it.

 

     Glenvar told him, “Ya feel that weight? That’s forty pounds of pure iron chainlink! We had to track down a tailor _and_ a blacksmith to throw this rag together.”

“It’s magic-proof,” added Lukas. “Blacksmith said those links will block any spells that come your way.”

Jeimos said, “And it’s fire-proof too! The outer weave is made of pyriad hair, just like my clothes.”

“It’s also water-proof,” Alaine added with a shrug. “Because why not?”

 

     Evan draped the garment around himself. He clasped the leather belt that wrapped diagonally from his right shoulder to under his left arm. It looked just as natural on him as it felt. The captain let out a hearty laugh of glee and pulled all four of his crewmates into a squeeze.

 

     “I could not ask for a better gift, nor better friends!” he told them. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you lot in the slightest. Surely this must have cost a fortune…”

 

Lukas replied, “Like I said, it’s from _all_ of us. Everyone in the compound pooled gold for this thing. Maybe they didn’t show up—those cowards—but they do care. Anyway, the cape was Isaac’s idea. Make sure to thank him tomorrow.”

 

     “Ah. Of course it was,” Evan chuckled, smiling dolefully down at the cape. “He’s been anxious about me since I nearly died in that skorpius den.”

“You _did_ die, Evan,” Alaine reminded him. “And to be honest, we’ve all been anxious since then.”

 

     Lukas crossed his arms and added, “Look, anything that keeps you around a little longer is priceless as far as we’re concerned. Remember that next time you’re weeping into your drink like a sad old bum.” He picked up Evan’s near-empty bottle and gave it a shake.

 

     Snatching it back with a shy smile, Evan knocked back the last bit and said, “It’s my birthday. I’ll weep into my drink if I want to.”

 

*

 

     The hours ticked by all too quickly as the mercenaries partied the afternoon away. Alaine strummed her lute, Glenvar pounding his drum, Jeimos mashing the piano to fill the bleak room with merry music. Evan and Lukas hooked arms and spun round and round, performing a rowdy dance they were both far too drunk for.

 

     Evan’s peg leg slipped against the wooden tabletop he danced upon. Down he went, pulling Lukas with him, and they crashed to the floor with the clattering and shattering of dishes. The musicians roared with sloppy laughter over their equally sloppy notes.

 

     Remnants of Evan’s melancholy still clawed at the back of his mind. He never meant to get so drunk tonight, but it seemed alcohol was the only thing that would silence that wicked self-loathing. So the drinks kept coming, one after another, until he couldn’t even feel the moon sickness anymore.

 

     The lower the sun sank, the more lycanthropy took hold. Alcohol numbed Evan’s hunger, his tremors, his nausea, headache, agitation, every clue that time was passing and the beast was nearing.

 

     Here in this dark hall, day and night were foreign concepts. Now the flames in the fireplace were dying and the alcohol was running dry. The mercenaries were slowing down, down, down until they started falling down, down, down. The alcohol had finally claimed them and they lied strewn around the room like ragdolls.

 

     Jeimos was slumped over the table. Alaine and Glenvar were sprawled out on the floor while Lukas sat propped up against the wall. Every one of them was out cold except for Evan, and he only had his freakish lycanthrope metabolism to thank for that. But when the drink finally hit him, it hit like a landslide.

 

     Evan struggled to keep his balance as his bleary eyes made sense of the clock on the wall. He blinked a few times and suddenly the six had become a nine. A jolt of panic shot to his gut. Nine o’clock? Nine thirty-three, at that!

 

     Time had certainly slipped away from him, but it was not too late. If he could rush home and get to his lockdown room in the next half-hour, he was in the clear. Evan wobbled his way out of the dining hall, opening the heavy doors to the dark of night. Growths of candleroot lit his way down the dirt path.

 

     The towering forest around him felt like a maze. Each trunk was cloaked in shadow, and in his state he couldn’t tell shadow from tree. Evan stumbled on, muttering gibberish that made more sense in his head. He took two wrong turns before righting himself. He tripped over his own peg leg not once, twice, nor three times—but four.

 

     Eventually Evan made it back to his little stone house. But he only had a few minutes to spare and his body, his mind, his will, they were all beginning to fall apart. His hands shook so violently that he could hardly turn the doorknob. The front door swung open with a creak and slammed against the wall.

 

     The sitting room was even darker than the outdoors. Evan’s legs were quaking, threatening to give out as he blindly made his way across the room. His boot met the edge of a foot stool, he flailed to catch his balance, and down he went. A potted plant joined him on the floor, shattering loudly on the wooden planks.

 

*

 

     The Atlas house had an attic space that Isaac called his own. It was only accessible by a little trap door, barely big enough for an adult to squeeze through.

 

     “Why is the door so small?” Isaac asked Evan the first day they moved in.

And Evan replied, “To protect you.”

“From what?”

“The Big Bad Wolf,” Evan told him, and the conversation ended there. The boy still didn’t know what he meant by that. He assumed it was a joke, a way to patronize him even further.

 

     No matter. It just made his space all the more exclusive, a little sanctuary for himself and his many pets that Evan didn’t know about. He left his window open all day for the family of birds living in the rafters, left a bowl of peanuts out for the squirrels, shared his bed with raccoons at night, and allowed a bat to roost in the safety of his closet.

 

     Not to mention the many bugs and fish he’d collected in jars. Isaac spent all afternoon tending to his zoo, for he’d been excluded from Evan’s birthday celebration. He was not pleased about that.

“Why can’t I go?” he had asked.

“’Cause fourteen’s too young fer booze and strippers,” Glenvar told him, and that was that.

 

     Now it was approaching ten o’clock and Isaac could only assume they’d be out until the wee hours of the morning. He frowned as he scrubbed the grime from a fish’s jar. He was burned just thinking about all the fun they were having without him. In just a few short years he’d be grown, then they wouldn’t treat him like a child anymore.

 

     The front door slammed against the wall. Isaac jumped with a start, fumbling with the jar that leaped from his hands. He heard loud, stomping footsteps on the floor below. He listened carefully, jumping again as he heard a terrible crashing of furniture and something shattering.

 

     Someone was in the house. Evan? Home already? All the noise made the boy’s stomach uneasy. It sounded more like burglars ransacking the place. But Isaac was no helpless child. He was brave, he was capable, and most importantly he was a Freelance Good Guy.

 

     Maybe he wasn’t very intimidating in his green pajamas. Regardless, Isaac quietly, cautiously opened the trap door in the corner of the room.

 

     He peeked down at the hallway below. He couldn’t see a thing except for the ladder leading down, but he could hear an awful sound just beyond. It was like the panting, whimpering, groaning of a suffering beast. Isaac feared no beast, for he had the _gift_. The gift made him one with the animals, and even in the face of vicious predators it had yet to fail him.

 

     Taking a deep breath to slow his racing heart, Isaac tucked a jar under his arm and crept down the ladder. Two fireflies danced in the jar, lighting the way as his bare feet padded into the dark sitting room. Already he could see evidence of chaos. The door was left wide open and a potted tree was overturned, soil and clay shards littering the floor.

 

     Isaac took care to step around the shards when he approached the lump convulsing behind the couch. Though it snarled and slavered like an animal, this was no animal at all. It was none other than Evan, wide-eyed and frothing at the mouth like he’d been guzzling soap.

 

     “Evan!” Isaac gasped. He set the jar down and kneeled beside the man. He waved a hand before his face, but Evan’s eyeballs were rolled back into his head, each breath coming ragged and harsh. He wasn’t responding to a thing the boy said. Isaac pressed his fingers to his captain’s neck. His inky brows show up at the speed of his pulse—fifty beats in fifteen seconds.

 

     Isaac was no doctor, but 200 beats per minute didn’t seem good. He alone was helpless to stop whatever was happening to Evan. He needed to find the village doctor, Che, and fast. Isaac rose to his feet, ready to sprint out the door. Suddenly his ankle was seized, caught in a crushing, sweaty grip.

 

     The man’s eyes had refocused. They were staring directly into Isaac’s now, glowing bright and red like cinders above bared teeth. Those teeth had grown long and sharp, oozing with bloody froth. Isaac’s gaze flashed down at the hand grasping his leg. Fingernails had turned black, grown sharp. Sandy-brown fur was quickly sprouting from Evan’s arm, his neck, his face.

 

     Fear and confusion twisted Isaac’s gut. He cried out, tried to wriggle away but only fell on his behind. Suddenly Evan let go on his own accord, bringing both hands to his face. He began tossing about as if in agony and Isaac, frozen in terror, could only watch.

 

     Sharp crackling sounds filled the air like popping flames. These horrid sounds were coming from Evan’s body while it jerked, stretched, deformed into a bestial monstrosity. Isaac’s jaw dropped. His instincts were telling him to run, yet he remained petrified by the sight before him. He simply couldn’t believe his eyes.

 

     The transformation finally came to an end and Evan was nowhere to be found. In his place was a creature four or five times his size, hideous, hairy and wolf-like. Its maw was full of jagged, gleaming teeth. Its size stretched Evan’s simple cotton clothes to their limit, tearing top and bottom to shreds.

 

     Only his cape was unharmed, still fastened around the beast’s shoulders. It resembled Evan in just one way, and that was its stumpy hind leg. Evan’s peg leg had slipped off. The creature didn’t seem to need it. It gimped towards Isaac on all fours—or threes—snorting and snarling with every breath it took. Saliva oozed from its maw like strands of spider’s silk, gleaming in the glow of fireflies.

 

     Isaac scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall. The beast had him cornered. He gnashed his teeth, shielded his face with his arms as it drew near. He felt the creature’s breath gusting against his arms, hot and foul. He heard it snarl, jumped when its teeth clapped the air.

 

     Isaac peeked through his hands. Red eyes and gleaming fangs stared right back at him. The beast opened its mouth as if to bite him and Isaac flinched. But once more its teeth simply snapped at the air just inches from the boy.

 

     Baffled, Isaac slowly lowered his hands to his sides. He heard the miserable creature begin to whimper, watched as it paced back and forth in front of him. It left a trail of saliva wherever it went. Its ravenous eyes fixated on the boy as if it wanted to attack, but something was stopping it.

 

     Isaac gasped, “The gift! It works on you too!” The beast’s short ears twitched when he spoke. It understood, or at least it was _trying_ to. It continued to pace and whimper as Isaac continued, “How long have you been a lycanthrope? How come you didn’t tell me?”

 

     Anger seeped into his tone, thicker with every word. “I get it now, what you said about the Big Bad Wolf. That’s _you_ , isn’t it? So you’ve been like this the whole time!” A crease carved itself between his brows. “I can’t believe you’d keep that from me. I thought we were friends! And crewmates! And I _live with you_!”

 

     The beast was getting more agitated by the second. From Isaac’s words or its own ravenous hunger was unclear. Finally accepting that it couldn’t eat the boy, it turned and began rummaging around the sitting room. Isaac rose to his feet, calling, “Hey! Be careful! Don’t—”

 

     Too late. The beast upended the couch, flipped it across the room like a toy. Now it was licking at the many lost snacks, crumbs, and spiders beneath. Isaac cringed, helpless while the beast knocked over a bookshelf and tossed an end table. Then it bolted into the kitchen and all the boy could hear was chaos.

 

     Pots banged, dishes shattered, cupboard doors were ripped from their hinges…This was too much for Isaac to handle. Not even Che would be prepared for this, he was certain. But Lukas was Evan’s best friend. Surely he knew about all this, and surely he had answers.

 

     Quickly slipping on his boots and brown leather coat, Isaac called, “Stay here! I’m going to get help, okay?” and with that, he shut the front door behind him and sprinted down the path.

 

*

 

     Lukas’ treehouse wasn’t far. Isaac was clambering up the rope ladder in less than two minutes, but his haste was in vain. Lukas wasn’t even home.

 

     Someone else was there to greet him instead: his pet roc, Shadow. She was stealing straw from the thatched roof, something that would make Lukas furious if he were here to see it. But Isaac had no time to go searching for him. He would ask Glenvar instead, for he lived just down the way.

 

     “Shadow, you gotta take me to Glen’s house! Quick!” the boy exclaimed. Immediately the giant bird dropped her bundle of straw and picked Isaac up by the sleeve of his pajamas. She plopped him right on her back before spreading her great black wings, taking off into the night sky.

 

     They arrived at the lake in no time. Shadow circled a tiny two-story houseboat that was fastened to the end of a long dock. She perched upon its roof. Her clumsy landing bobbed the boat and sent rippling waves all the way to shore. Isaac slid down from her back and pounded on the front door, calling, “Glen! Glen, wake up, please! It’s an emergency! _Wake up_!”

 

     No answer. Glenvar either wasn’t home or he was passed out drunk. Either way he was no help, so the boy climbed back onto his bird and they took off to Alaine’s house. She lived in a wooden shack on the opposite end of the lake; a muddy, slimy piece of property fit only for a mermaid like her.

 

     Shadow refused to land on the rotting roof, instead perching in a nearby tree. Isaac clambered down its branches and knocked on Alaine’s rickety door. He called and called for her, but she too didn’t seem to be home. The boy let out a grunt of frustration. With every minute that passed, the Big Bad Wolf tore his house apart a little more. It was a danger to itself and others—particularly Evan.

 

     There was still one person left who could help. Isaac rode Shadow over the skies until they saw a stone tower jutting up through the forest canopy. Its exterior was a tangle of brass pipes and turning gears, all choked with vines. They landed at its base, among the heaps of scrap metal and other junk Jeimos had hoarded over the years.

 

     “Please, please, _please_ answer the door, Jeimos!” Isaac begged as he repeatedly jammed his finger against the doorbell. He heard it ringing from outside, high and brassy. There was no way the elf could sleep through that. Apparently they weren’t home either.

 

     “Where _is_ everyone?” the boy growled into the night. Little did he know the entire crew was passed out in the community dining hall. He had no choice but to ride back to the Atlas house and try to contain this mess all by himself.

 

     The compound was quiet at this hour. Isaac wished for his flight goggles as the cold night air whipped at his eyes. But they were sitting in a chest back home with the rest of his gear; his armor, his weapons, his tools…Hopefully he wouldn’t need to use any of that tonight.

 

     Then a shout ripped through the silence. Isaac squinted, tried to see through the forest canopy below. He tugged at Shadow’s feathers and she circled the area while he listened. The voice was hollering in a foreign language, gruff yet feminine.

“It’s Elska,” Isaac said to his bird. “Let’s see what’s going on!”

 

     He clutched her feathers tight as Shadow dived through the canopy. Branches cracked and leaves rained down to the forest floor. The roc righted itself and her talons met the ground with a heavy thud. Glowing candleroot growths cast the scene before Isaac in bold relief.

 

     Elska indeed, startled and turning to face him. She clutched an iron longhammer in her hands, the end stained with blood. Crouched just a few feet away was none other than the Big Bad Wolf, snarling furiously through its bloody maw. It bared its teeth and revealed a missing tooth on the top, leaving a gap just behind the incisor. Isaac’s stomach dropped. Somehow the beast had escaped the house.

 

     “Elska, don’t hurt it!” he told the centaur, and he could only hope she understood him. “That’s Evan! H-He’s a werewolf!”

Elska furrowed her brow at the boy. He got her attention only briefly, then she whipped around and charged the beast with a mighty battle cry. She didn’t understand.

 

     “No!” Isaac screeched. He leaped off the roc’s back and scrambled towards her. She must have weighed a ton. If anyone in Drifter’s Hollow was capable of slaying a werewolf, it was her. She and the beast charged towards one another and clashed in a flurry of shouts and snarls.

 

     She raised her hammer just as its maw lunged for her. Its teeth clamped down on its iron handle and she jerked it back, jamming it to the back of its mouth. Now the beast couldn’t bite anything as she wrestled it to the ground, but it still had three sets of claws, and it dug every one of them into her equine body.

 

     Elska was barely fazed. Her icy blue eyes seemed to glow with fury, bound and determined to kill this abomination threatening her village. Isaac yanked at her tail, desperately trying to pull her off the creature. It was no use. She threw her entire weight on top of the Bigbad, yet she was still struggling to hold it down.

 

     A werewolf’s might was nothing to scoff at. It was trying to roll her over and gain leverage. Elska knew she had to end this before that happened, so she briefly lifted the handle of her hammer out of its mouth before instead jamming it against its throat.

 

     The beast’s growls became strained and ragged. Red froth flew from its snapping jaws, just out of reach to rip her face away. Elska was growling right back at it, surely something foul in her harsh northern language. Every breath was a gauntlet in itself and now Bigbad was losing its strength.

 

     Its hold on her loosened. Its thrashing slowed. Isaac had to act quickly.

 

     Elska cried out, lost her grip on the hammer as she was suddenly pulled off the beast. Shadow seized her long braided hair in her beak and cast her aside like a spoiled meal. Dazed, the werewolf before her rolled over and stumbled back to its three legs. Red spittle flew every which way when it shook the dizziness out of its head.

 

     Isaac and Elska rushed towards it at once. But Shadow caught Elska’s tail in her beak and tugged her back once more, then planted a talon on her equine behind to keep her in place. She shouted foreign curses at the giant bird while Isaac kneeled beside Bigbad. He growled through his teeth, “What are you doing out here? You’re gonna get killed! Come home right now!”

 

     The boy reached for the scruff of its neck, but the werewolf immediately shook him off. Then in a rustle of leaves, it went bolting away into the darkness of the forest.

“ _Evaaaan_!” Isaac shouted after it, tangling his fingers in his own curly hair. He was about ready to tear it out of his head.

 

     Instead, he jumped back on his roc and ordered, “Follow him!” Shadow obeyed. She took off running, her bulk clearing a path through the underbrush. Elska was left behind to fumble for her lost hammer in the dark and wonder what on Gaia had just happened.

 

*

 

     Isaac could hardly see in the dim light of the candleroot, but he didn’t have to. Shadow’s night vision guided them through even the darkest reaches of the Forest of Refuge. The bird was intelligent and perceptive. Isaac held his tongue and trusted her to track the werewolf on her own.

 

      And perhaps that had been a mistake.

 

     For she took him right into a campsite where three armored men jumped at the sight of her. They drew their swords, staring wide-eyed as the roc made a beeline for their campfire. A chicken was roasting on a spit, but not for long. Now it was being torn apart in Shadow’s beak.

 

     “Shadow, no! Bad! That doesn’t belong to you!” Isaac scolded her. He climbed onto the bird’s head, the trio of men looking baffled as he seized her beak. He was just a second too late, and the entire chicken was swallowed in one gulp. Isaac let out a dramatic sigh and slid back down her neck, taking his spot on her back once again.

 

     He turned to the men and apologized, “Um, I’m really sorry about that. We raise chickens at home, I can give—”

“Wow! Is that a _roc_?” one of the men blurted. He, like the other two, was a human clad in plates of iron. “Where’d you get one of them things, Kid? I gotta get me one!”

 

     Isaac quirked an eyebrow. He glanced down at Shadow, now suddenly behaving, then back at the men. “Uh,” he began slowly, “from Serkel?”

Disappointment burdened the man’s features. “Oh. Serkel, huh? Well, the Blue Broad ain’t never going to post us down there.”

 

     He paused. Then he tipped his head towards the three brown horses hitched to a tree. “Hey, I’ll trade my horse for it. Only got five years on him and he’s sturdy as a stone!”

 

Isaac threw his arms around the roc’s neck and exclaimed, “No way! I wouldn’t trade her for a million horses!” Then with a tug at her feathers he grumbled, “Even if she’s a no-good, naughty, _thief_ …”

 

     A remorseful crow rumbled from the bird. First Lukas’ roof, now someone’s dinner. Not to mention all the gourds she’d stolen from Evan’s garden last autumn, and all the laundry she picked off the line to hoard in her nest.

 

     Another man stepped forward and spoke up, “What are you doing out at this hour, son? It isn’t safe. There are wicked fae lobbing spells around these parts, you know!”

Isaac stumbled over his own explanation. “I’m—well, uh, I’m looking for a…” He winced as the word passed his lips, “ _Werewolf_.”

 

     “A werewolf?” the man queried, his grip visibly tightening on his weapon.

“Yeah,” Isaac went on, “it’s loose in the forest. But don’t worry, ‘cause me and Shadow here are gonna catch it. Actually, um, I’d pack up and get out of here for the night if I were you…”

 

     The men turned to one another, began mumbling things Isaac couldn’t hear. Then the man from before addressed Isaac again. “This is no job for you, kid. Go on home, lock all your doors and block the windows. We’ll take it from here.”

Already the men were dispersing around the campsite, loading supplies into bags and the bags onto their horses.

 

     “H-hold on,” stammered Isaac, “what are you going to do? You’re not going to hurt it, are you?”

The man replied as he fastened a leather bag to his saddle, “We’ll do more than hurt it, don’t you worry. We’ll wipe this forest clean of it before tomorrow.”

 

     “No!” the boy shouted, so loud that the men flinched and nearby bats fled their roosts. “You can’t do that! It’s a person! I mean, it _was_ …and it will be again at sunrise!”

“And come the next full moon, it’ll be a beast again, won’t it? The queen posted us here to protect the border and that’s what we’re going to do. Lycanthropy has no place in Evangeline Kingdom.”

 

     With that, the soldiers mounted their horses and galloped down the path. Isaac’s jaw hung slack in disbelief. Of all his mistakes tonight, this was the worst yet. He turned to Shadow and said, “We have to find Evan before they do!”

 

     The roc agreed, turned around and took off running back into the trees.

 

*

 

     Elska returned to Drifter’s Hollow with a lot to say and no one to listen. Only two villagers named Olof and Frederick, father and son, could understand her language. Her hooves thundered down the dirt path as fast as they could carry her. By the time she pounded on the door of Olof’s longhouse, she was too out of breath to speak.

 

     Olof, another centaur ashen of hair and brown of fur, rolled off his bed of hay. His bleary eyes looked upon Elska, slouched before him and gasping for air. “Elska! What is wrong?” he queried. Suddenly his tired eyes were wide and alert.

“Beast…Giant beast…In the forest…” Elska panted, pointing vaguely at the trees behind her.

 

     She took a deep breath and continued, “It looked like a wolf…But it was dressed like a man, and nearly as big as myself! It attacked me as I was fetching water. It was already missing a leg, and I would have slain the miserable thing had it not been for that—that _boy_!”

 

     Olof blinked. “What boy?”

“Captain Atlas’ son! Or nephew, or whatever he is! The one with the monstrous bird!”

 

     “Oh, you mean Isaac!” Olof’s brows jumped. Then those brows furrowed as he fell silent, looking to be piecing information together in his head.

Elska went on with urgency, “That boy got in my way and now the beast runs free. It was foaming from the mouth like a mongrel gone mad! Olof, relay this to the mercenaries at once. The beast must be slain before it takes a life.”

 

     Olof hesitated. He was not one of the Freelance Good Guys, just a simple villager. But he had helped build their compound years ago, and he was a trusted friend of Captain Evan Atlas. He was privy to some of their secrets. One of those secrets was Evan’s lycanthropy.

 

     Though she was a mercenary herself, Elska was apparently still left in the dark. Olof thought about how to relay the situation as he made his way to the compound just outside the village. Who knew Evan’s secret? Who didn’t know? Blabbing about this to just anyone could cost the captain his life.

 

     There were two other mercenaries that Olof was close with. They were aware of the lycanthropy, he knew for sure, so now it was up to Linde and Balthazaar to discreetly handle this mess. They were the only ones available, the others either blackout drunk or dispatched to foreign lands.

 

     They wasted no time suiting up in their armor and rushing into the dark woods. Spring rain began sprinkling, then pouring down right when they left, leaving them to tromp through the mud.

 

     They were guided by the magical light Linde had cast between her hands. Balthazaar carried a freshly-killed turkey to entice the beast. He was clad in his huge iron gauntlets, a burly human with a long black beard trailing to his chest. His bald head was protected by an iron helmet.

 

     Linde walked ahead of him, an elf half his size with hair and skin as white as ivory. Her albinism troubled her in the sun, but not now in the darkness of midnight. She whistled and called for the beast repeatedly, “Bigbaaaaad! Here, Boy! We got a fat, bloody treat for you! Yum yum yum!”

 

     “With any luck, we won’t attract a bear…” grumbled Balthazaar.

Linde nudged him and hissed, “Shut it! This is what we get for ditching Atlas on his birthday. Ever hear of ‘karma’?”

“And this is exactly _why_ I ditched him!” the man told her. Then he sighed, “Listen. I’m fond of the man. He’s a fine friend and I know that awful disease torments him. But this is the reality of it, Linde. Like it or not, a lycanthrope will always be a hazard.”

 

     “I still feel bad,” grumbled Linde. “After all he’s done for us…”

Balthazaar assured her, “I’m sure the karma will even out once we bring him home safely.” He patted the coil of metal chains fastened to his belt.

 

     Before long, the mercenaries heard a thundering sound from deep in the trees. They stopped to listen. Something was rustling through the bushes. An animal—a heavy one, quickly moving closer and closer. Balthazaar dropped the turkey carcass. He pulled the chain off his belt and it unfurled into a net.

 

     He and Linde braced themselves, then a creature big and hairy exploded out of the brush. Linde let out a shriek as pale white light burst from her hands. The animal was blasted with icy magic. Almost immediately it was paralyzed, its body consumed by glittering white frost.

 

     The animal fell stiffly to the wet, muddy ground, then it found itself blanketed by a net of chains. Balthazaar threw himself on top of it to hold it down. Its chest and front legs were frozen while its back legs scrambled madly. It swung its head back, striking Balthazaar’s helm with its velvety paddles.

 

     The man let out a grunt, dazed for a brief moment. The creature was heavy and shaggy like Bigbad. But last time he checked, werewolves didn’t have paddles. Linde rushed forth with her magical light. Now they could see it for what it really was: a bull moose. An angry, frightened, bull moose getting itself more tangled in their net by the second.

 

     “Sorry! So sorry! We thought you were someone else!” Linde apologized to the groaning animal. She carefully approached the scene and began helping Balthazaar untangle it. The moose’s wriggling didn’t help matters, so she blasted its hind legs with the same spell.

 

     “Poor thing,” Balthazaar grunted, yanking the chain from its antlers. He threw a glance at Linde and asked, “This spell of yours won’t hurt him, will it?”

“Oh no, it’s not a deep freeze!” the elf explained. “It just slows them down for a minute or two. And I do mean a minute or two, so we should really hurry up with these chains…”

 

     Over the rattling metal and the groaning moose, the two heard something else from the brush behind them. They turned towards the same direction the moose had come from. Something else was trailing it, and fast. Another animal, equally as massive, bolted out of the undergrowth in a flurry of teeth and claws.

 

     Linde and Balthazaar dived, rolled, scrambled away a split second before a snarling werewolf pounced on top of the moose. It tried to sink its teeth in, but only got a mouth full of iron links.

“There he is!” cried Balthazaar.

 

     Linde wasted no time. She lobbed a beam of frost at the beast. The forest flashed brilliantly in its light, but only for a second. The moment that light struck the werewolf, it dissipated like a firework and faded away. Bits of frost rained onto Bigbad’s face. It scrambled off the moose and shook its head, pawed at the cold feeling on its face and left streaks of mud behind.

 

     Baffled, Linde launched another beam. Once again it struck the beast but did not freeze it. She looked down at her hands as if they’d betrayed her. Then she looked back to the werewolf and gasped, “Oh no! Is that the cape we got him?”

 

     Her cohort raised a bushy black eyebrow. “Looks like it. Why?”

“It’s magic-proof!” Linde cried, blasting another beam of frost as Bigbad lunged for her. It struck the werewolf in the face and Bigbad halted in its tracks with a yelp, stopping once more to paw the ice from its eyes. Its head was uncovered, but its back and torso were shielded by the cape.

 

     Linde couldn’t freeze its elbows, and she was at no kind of angle to shoot its knee. There was no way she could truly subdue it, and worse yet…

“Moose is loose!” announced Balthazaar.

 

     Linde whipped her gaze towards the moose, unfrozen and flailing, entangling itself deeper in the chains. Now their net was useless too. The moose rose to its hooves. Its front leg was caught but it began to hobble away with its remaining three. Nearby, Bigbad had swiped the frost from its eyes. They cracked open, red and glowing in the darkness, and fixated on Balthazaar.

 

     Then it lunged, and just as soon Balthazaar took cover behind the moose. Bigbad crashed against the poor animal, knocking it on its side once again. Balthazaar scurried away, and as the werewolf busied itself trying to have another go at the moose, Linde shot a blast of magic from behind.

 

     It struck Bigbad’s hind knee, encasing the joint in ice. The beast whirled around to face her with a snarl. It dragged its body across the dirt with its monstrous hands, reaching out to swipe at her, but she was too quick. Linde jumped back and lobbed another blast at its eyes.

 

     “I’m getting weak,” Linde panted. “I can’t freeze him forever. Get that net on him already!”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” shouted Balthazaar, furiously fumbling with the chains. The wriggling moose wasn’t making his job any easier.

 

     Linde dared to step closer to Bigbad, just close enough to freeze an elbow. The beast reacted in the blink of an eye, saliva flying as it snapped its jaws at her face. She drew back with a yelp. A lock of white hair was caught between its teeth and ripped away.

 

     Bigbad had just one limb left to bend, but a whole lot of persistence. It slowly dragged itself towards Linde with its unfrozen arm. “This is hopeless! Damn it, we need backup!” the elfenne growled.

 

     Then as if on queue, the cavalry arrived.

 

     Three men on horseback came galloping down the trail. They circled the scene, whooping and hollering with weapons in hand.

“There it is!” they cried.

“Don’t get too close!” they cried.

“One bite and it’s over!” they cried.

 

     The men drew their bows and began loading arrows. Linde stood up and threw herself between them and the struggling werewolf. Balthazaar dashed to the opposite end, blocking the men from all sides. Linde shouted at them, “Don’t shoot! Please, we’ve got this under control! Just help us untangle our net!” She tipped her head towards the moose, making its slow, squirming getaway.

 

     “Stand aside, hob!” one of the horseback men snarled. “You are interfering with official Evangeline business!”

Balthazaar retorted, “And _you’re_ interfering with official Good Guys business! Piss off, this beast is ours!”

 

“Don’t you da—” the soldier began, then his horse suddenly reared back with a terrified bray. Caught off-guard, the soldier was thrown.

 

     All three horses reared and whinnied as Bigbad broke free of its spell. The beast shot up and let out a bone-chilling howl, the weakened ice flaking from its joints. It lunged for Balthazaar and just in time, the man met its jaws with his heavy steel gauntlet.

 

     Bigbad’s teeth could not pierce metal, but the creature cared not. It seized the gauntlet and wrenched it back and forth, trying to tear the man’s arm from its socket. The world was a blur as Balthazaar was shaken like a ragdoll. Blindly he swung his opposite fist, and his other gauntlet made contact with the side of Bigbad’s head.

 

     Linde winced at the loud “clang!” against the werewolf’s skull. It was just the first of many.

_Clang!_

_Clang!_

_Clang!_

And still Bigbad would not let go.

 

     “Stop it! You’re going to give him brain damage!” screeched Linde.

Balthazaar barked back, “Then help me, damn you!” He jammed his armored fingers between the werewolf’s jaws, sweat pouring down his face as he tried to pry them open.

 

     Just then, an arrow went whizzing through the air. The Big Bad Wolf finally let go of Balthazaar when that arrow pierced through its neck. It threw itself backwards with a wet snarl. Without a second of thought, it grasped the arrow and yanked it free. Then its red eyes glared to the right, where a nervous soldier was standing. His horse had already taken off without him.

 

     Just before Bigbad could lunge for him, two more arrows stuck in its hip and shoulder. When it turned to face the other soldiers, the first fired another. This arrow simply bounced off the iron links in the werewolf’s cape. Bigbad darted for the two men on horseback and they were quick to split in two different directions.

 

     The werewolf tackled one of them, wrestling the horse to the ground. The soldier rolled and scrambled to his feet. He drew his sword, and then he was hit in the back with a frost spell. His iron armor blocked its magic, but it distracted him for exactly one second—long enough for Bigbad to charge him.

 

     Linde’s wide eyes watched, hands clasped over her mouth as the soldier flailed beneath the beast. Bigbad jammed its maw into the soldier’s helm and gore immediately gushed around its face. It was too late for this Evangeline warrior, but his fellow soldiers had not given up.

 

     They drew their swords and rushed the beast on foot.

“No!” the mercenaries cried in unison, then bolted forth to intercept them. Linde threw her entire weight against one of them, knocking him to the ground. Balthazaar drew his burly arm back and punched the other in the head so hard, it sent the soldier spinning before he collapsed.

 

     Balthazaar’s opponent was out cold. Linde’s was trying to wrestle his sword out of her grip.

“You’ll die, you filthy hob!” the soldier snarled at her just before wrenching the sword from her hands. Linde’s jaw fell slack, the blade reflecting in her rounded eyes as he raised it high.

 

     But it never plunged into her, for Balthazaar seized the man’s head and drove it into his armored knee. Once, twice, three times the man’s helm bashed against the iron plate, his head rattling inside like a marble. He lost consciousness then, dropping to the ground. His sword clattered beside him.

 

     All three horses had disappeared down the trail. Their hooves could still be heard fading away. Balthazaar pulled Linde to her feet and they faced Bigbad, still greedily feasting on the dead soldier’s corpse. They exchanged fresh, hopeful expressions. Balthazaar began, “That might keep him busy while we—” He looked this way and that. “Er, where’s that moose?”

 

     The moose was nowhere to be seen. While the mercs and soldiers were busy scuffling, it seemed to have hobbled away into the darkness of the trees.

“It has our net!” exclaimed Linde. “Quick, we have to find it!”

“There’s no time! Search the Blue Boys, they might have something.”

 

     The two set to work searching the soldiers for gear, all while keeping a wary eye on the beast. It was occupied completely, as if no world existed outside the feast before it. They cringed at the crack of bone, the squelch of meat, the clamping of teeth just feet away. If they weren’t careful, they could be next.

 

     From the tallest reaches of the forest canopy, branches cracked and sailed down with a storm of fluttering leaves. With them dropped a big feathery roc and her young jockey. The werewolf was just as startled as Balthazaar and Linde. There was a moment or two of silence, shock, and confusion as Isaac’s gaze drifted around the clearing.

 

     He saw two of his friends from the compound, two possibly dead Evangeline soldiers, and one _definitely_ dead Evangeline soldier lying eviscerated under a werewolf. The very werewolf he’d spent all night looking for. It was all the noise that led him here, but now everything had fallen deathly silent.

 

     Balthazaar broke the silence. “Isaac, get out of here! That’s a werewolf!” he pointed to the beast as it growled and slowly slinked away from the boy and his roc.

“Yeah, I know! I’ve been chasing him all over the dang forest!” Isaac replied.

 

     He was soaked to the bone, curly hair lying lank against his head, cold hands quivering before him. He turned to Bigbad and seethed, “I’m wet, I’m freezing, and I am _so_ mad at you, you can’t imagine! We’re going home _right now_!” Then he tugged at the roc’s feathers and barked, “Grab him!”

 

     With a screech, Shadow’s wings shot out and she went running forward. One, two, three steps, and the fourth landed right on top of the Big Bad Wolf. The beast was crushed beneath her talons, but only for a moment before it was lifted off the ground, through the canopy, and into the sky by its cape.

 

     The boy, the roc, and the werewolf disappeared just as suddenly as they arrived. Balthazaar and Linde craned their necks up at the blackness of the treetops, slack-jawed at what they’d just seen. They turned to one another once more and Linde queried, “Er, mission accomplished?”

 

     “Not yet,” sighed Balthazaar. The two hurried down the trail towards the compound.

 


	2. Sunrise

##  **[CHAPTER 2:** **SUNRISE]**

 

     Bigbad flailed and thrashed in Shadow’s grip, but its swiping claws could not reach her. The beast dangled by the end of its cape high above the forest and it was not at all happy about it. All while Isaac scolded it over the wind, “You owe me big time for this, Evan! You almost died, Elska almost died, some soldier _did_ die—”

 

     The boy bit his tongue. He glanced down at the werewolf, still growling and thrashing below. Maybe sharing the murder with Evan wasn’t the best idea. Was the creature even listening? Would Evan remember any of this when he woke tomorrow? Isaac’s knowledge of lycanthropy was limited. Now it made sense, all those fables about werewolves Evan insisted on reading to him when he was younger.

 

     “I’m tired of werewolf stories,” Isaac told him then. “Teach me about dragons instead!”

And Evan would say, “But this is a really good one. You’ll like it, I promise!” The boy realized now that Evan had been revealing his identity bit by bit over the years, hoping he would figure it out on his own.

 

     The signs were there all along. The captain’s inhuman strength, the way he bounced back from mortal wounds, the carpet of body hair, the ten-course meals, the way their furniture somehow smelled of dog though they were forbidden in the compound…Why couldn’t Evan just tell him? Why wait until it came to this?

 

     Isaac was so offended, he considered telling Shadow to drop the beast out of spite. Give Evan a few more cuts and bruises to wake up to. But he didn’t have to, for Bigbad had wriggled out of its cape and was now yowling as it fell down and down, crashing through the treetops.

 

     “No!” The boy gasped, jerked Shadow’s feathers and turned her sharply downward. Where exactly the beast had fallen, he wasn’t sure, and by the time they landed it was nowhere to be seen. Such a fall would kill a man, but a werewolf would shake it off like a bump on the head. It had likely run off yet again.

 

     Isaac’s grip tightened on Shadow’s feathers. His teeth pressed together and there he sat in silent, seething anger for almost a minute. He’d never felt so useless and incompetent.

“Damn it!” he wailed at the trees, with no adults around to scold him. “Fuck! Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck it all! God damn it—”

 

     “Hey! Quit all that cussing!” a familiar voice called. Isaac whirled around. He’d never been so happy to be scolded by Lukas, emerging from the trees with the rest of the crew in tow. Lukas, Glenvar, Alaine, Jeimos, plus Linde and Balthazaar were fully armed and armored, though they all looked just as wet, groggy, and miserable as Isaac.

 

     “Where were you guys?” the boy blurted, sliding off Shadow’s back. He ran to them and threw his arms around Lukas, nearly sobbing as he explained, “I looked all over for you and you weren’t there! Evan turned into a werewolf last night—did you know that? Did you know he has lycanthropy? I’ve been chasing him all night but I can’t catch him, and I think he killed somebody, and soldiers are hunting for him, and—”  


     “Alright, alright, calm down!” Lukas spoke over him. He disentangled the boy and shoved him back. “Yeah, we know what he is. You, uh…You weren’t supposed to know, but obviously it’s too late for that now.” Lukas sighed. “We’ll talk about this later. We got the details from Balthazaar and Linde, so just go home. We’ll take care of it.”

 

     “No way!” Isaac sniffled, wiping tears and rain from his eyes. “Stop treating me like a kid! I’m part of the crew too, Evan said so!”

Alaine furrowed her blue brows and told him sternly, “Evan’s not here, Izzy. He won’t be back until sunrise. That means Lukas is the captain right now and you have to do what he says.”

 

     “That’s not fair! I’m not a child!” Isaac cried with a defiant stamp of his foot.

Lukas rolled his eyes and replied, “You’re sure acting like one! Go home and play with your dolls, kid. That’s an order.” Then he turned to the rest of the crew. “Let’s move.”

 

     With that they tromped off deeper into the woods. Lukas swiftly cleared a path with his machete as Jeimos lit the way with their magical flames, and then they were out of sight.

“They’re _figurines_ …” Isaac muttered under the rain, tone seeped in bitterness.

 

     No way was he going to get left behind. One way or another, Isaac would save his captain and prove his worth.

 

*

 

     Most of the crew still wasn’t entirely awake, and not exactly sober either. It was Linde and Balthazaar who roused them from their drunken stupors, and when Isaac failed to return with Bigbad, they suited up and stumbled into the woods to search for him.

 

     They saw Shadow crashing down into the canopy. Isaac’s cursing led them straight to him. Now Alaine was using her tracking skills to lead them to the werewolf.

 

“Ugh, you can _smell_ him. Stinks like blood and wet dog,” she mumbled, whiffing at scratches in a tree trunk. She plucked a lock of fur from a branch and examined it in Jeimos’ light. “Matches his hair color. We’re on the right track.”

 

     The crew followed broken twigs, flattened grass, clawed hand and foot prints in the mud. Then they heard a metallic sound ahead, like chains rattling together. Lukas pressed a finger to his lips and led the way, creeping quietly. They peeked over a bush and by the light of the candleroot, they could see the dim outline of two massive beasts.

 

     One was Bigbad just as they suspected. It was clawing and biting at a chain net, and trapped in the net was a groaning bull moose.

“Found our net,” said Balthazaar.

Lukas hushed him. He addressed the crew when he whispered, “Here’s the plan: Linde, you disable his left arm. Then Alaine, you’ll come in from his left side and distract him. That’s when Linde will circle around and disable his right arm.”

 

     He continued, “Glen, I want you to approach him from the front and make a lot of noise. Balthazaar and I will sneak up from the back and get the muzzle on him. Once it’s on, Alaine, you need to bind his arms as fast as you can. Any questions?”

 

     Jeimos’ eyes flicked left and right, then they sheepishly raised their hand. “Er, Lukas? What shall I do?” they queried.

Lukas hesitated. Then he frowned and told the elf, “If you see one of us getting mauled, I want you to use your flames. Hold nothing back. Don’t stop ‘till the beast stops.”

 

     The crew exchanged solemn glances. After another pause, Lukas sighed, “It’s what he would want. He told me so years back. But stick to the plan and we’ll all get out of this alive—Evan included. Got it?”

 

     The other five nodded. Jeimos extinguished their flame and allowed the night to cloak them. Bigbad was too busy trying to unwrap its meal to notice them creeping around the clearing. Between its own snarls, the pounding rain, the rattling chains and the moose’s bellowing, it never heard the rustle of leaves or squelching of mud beneath the crew’s boots.

 

     Linde padded her way to its left, crouched as she carefully lined up her shot. She only had one chance. If she missed, if she failed, the whole plan was ruined. She pointed her crystal-tipped wand forth and silently counted down. Three…Two…

 

     Then a screech tore through the air. Linde jumped and her frosty beam blasted against a tree trunk, leaving a white, glittering splotch. Leaves rained down with a big mass of feathers and talons. The werewolf jumped back just in time as Shadow landed on the moose.

 

     But it seemed she wasn’t aiming to snatch the werewolf anyway, for her talons clasped around the net and in an instant, she lifted the animal off the ground. Isaac rode atop her back, glaring down at his crew below. They saw Evan’s fancy cape draped over the boy’s shoulders, soaked and muddy.

 

     Then Shadow took off through the forest with the entangled moose. She weaved between trees, flying low to entice Bigbad with a fat sack of helpless, bellowing prey. The beast chased after them according to plan, and then they had all disappeared.

 

     Lukas ran into the clearing, fists shaking with anger at his sides. He screamed Isaac’s name furiously into the night. In a matter of seconds, the boy made a joke of his authority.

 

*

 

     The compound wasn’t far. Shadow carried the moose through the forest and Bigbad followed the whole way, slavering and snorting as it clambered through the brush. The lights of home cast a warm glow on the trunks ahead. They were just a moment away.

 

     Then Isaac heard a canine yelp from behind. His head whipped back. He’d lost sight of Bigbad, but he could hear it growling and yipping somewhere in the darkness. A familiar gruff voice was shouting alongside it in a foreign language.

“Oh no, not again…!” the boy cried. He leaped off the roc, rolling as he hit the muddy ground.

 

     “Elska! Elska, don’t!” he called as he swiped undergrowth out of his path. The cape was terribly heavy, but its weight was a sacrifice he was willing to make for warmth. He’d been out in the freezing-cold rain for hours just trying to prevent…Well, exactly the scene ahead of him.

 

     Bigbad was facing off with Elska and her longhammer yet again. She’d bloodied its teeth in their last battle, and now it seemed she’d bloodied his head. The werewolf had been concussed, stumbling side to side while it took pathetic swipes at her. The centaur kept her distance, waited for an opportunity to bash his skull once more.

 

     “Stop!” Isaac screeched. Elska glanced up at him. He rushed her from the side and seized the handle of her weapon. Elska shouted something at him in her harsh language. No translation needed—clearly he wasn’t wanted here. Isaac and the cape’s combined weight were too much for her, and she simply could not pry the hammer away.

 

     Meanwhile the Big Bad Wolf was advancing, slowly but surely. It took another step and the ground spun beneath its feet. Blood trickled from its head into its eyes. Bigbad collapsed again, blindly flailing on the forest floor. Isaac kicked at the centaur as he clung to her weapon, shouting, “Leave him alone! You’re gonna kill him!”

 

     The two were so occupied with their scuffle, neither of them noticed the werewolf rise to its three legs beside them. It shook the blur from its dizzy head and the blood from its stinging eyes. It focused on Elska and all it saw was red. An instant later it lunged.

 

     The half-ton beast slammed into Elska, sending both her and Isaac to the ground. The hammer was yanked from the centaur’s grip, landing in Isaac’s lap. Elska’s scream sent a chill rattling down his spine. His wide eyes watched Bigbad’s teeth sink into her equine shoulder. Blood gushed forth around its snarling mouth.

 

     Isaac had no time to react, nor did Elska as a fireball came whizzing out of the woods and struck Bigbad in the face. Immediately it scrambled off of Elska and swiped the cinders out of its eyes. The mercenary crew was now pouring out of the trees with Jeimos at the forefront.

 

     The red elf aimed their staff right at the werewolf, and just as it lunged for them, it was stopped in its place by another blast of fire. Flames poured from the staff like water, lighting the clearing in a brilliant red glow. Tears were streaming down Jeimos’ face all the while. “Forgive me, Mr. Atlas! By the stars, I am so very sorry!” they cried.

 

     Bigbad let out a terrible howl. It was burning alive.

 

     But its suffering didn’t last long, not before Isaac rushed into the flames and threw himself on top of the creature. The crew gasped and called for the boy, Jeimos ceasing their spell.

 

     A silence fell over them while the black smoke cleared. Left behind was a singed and whimpering werewolf beneath an unharmed boy and his enchanted cape. The grass around them was blackened and smoldering, tiny cinders still aglow.

 

     “Isaac, get away from him _now_!” hissed Lukas.

Isaac only squeezed the beast tighter and yelled back, “I won’t let you kill him!”

The others hurried to Elska. She was struggling to her hooves with a gaping wound on her shoulder. It gushed blood by the bucketful, flesh torn down to the bone.

 

     Jeimos acted quickly, pressing the crystal tip of their staff against the wound’s edge. They began to cauterize it. They were no surgeon and their work was sloppy, but in less than a minute they’d patched her up well enough until she could see Che, the village doctor just a quarter-mile away.

 

     Drifter’s Hollow was so close. So very close, Isaac thought, and if they could just make it that short distance then he will not have failed. He looked back at Lukas standing beside him. The man’s face was burdened with fear and doubt. Just behind, the others were tending to Elska.

 

     Lukas was bewildered at the way Isaac could get so close to the beast. Bigbad was making no attempt to attack the boy, so he dared to take a step closer. The werewolf snarled at him the moment he did. Lukas stepped back again, then took a length of sturdy leather off his belt.

 

     He tossed it to Isaac and told him, “Get that around his mouth if you can. Fasten the buckle at the back of his head, tight as it goes.”

Isaac turned the object over in his hands. It looked to be hand-made, a dog’s muzzle fit for a werewolf.

 

     Bigbad wasn’t pleased when the thing was slipped over its nose. It threw its head this way and that while Isaac struggled to buckle it in place. But after a whole night of fleeing, fighting, and feasting on foes, not to mention being frozen, beaten with iron gauntlets, shot with arrows, dropped from the sky, walloped with a hammer, and burned to a crisp…The beast hardly had strength left to resist.

 

     Linde soon arrived and immobilized it with her frost. Then Alaine was quick to start binding its wrists together behind its back. On the count of three, the whole crew lifted the heavy creature. It let out muffled snarls and made weak attempts to thrash out of their grips, but it was all in vain.

 

     This night was over.

 

*

 

     Linde and Balthazaar walked Elska to the infirmary in Drifter’s Hollow. Meanwhile the rest of the Freelance Good Guys carried Bigbad back to the Atlas house.

 

     They passed Shadow by the front gate of the compound. She was pecking at the moose still lying there all tangled in the net. Those chains were the only thing separating her from a generous meal.

 

     “Shadow, leave that poor thing alone!” Isaac scolded her. The roc sheepishly tucked her face into her wing. The crew was taking Bigbad back to the Atlas house, Isaac realized, and as they got closer he saw that the front window was shattered. That must have been the escape route then.

 

     “Uh, guys,” he began, “the house won’t hold him. I found that out the hard way…”

Lukas replied, “We’re not locking him in the house. We’re locking him in the sundown room.”

“Sundown room?” The boy quirked his brows.

 

     All his questions would be answered when he saw it for himself. They passed through the front doorway, crossed the trashed sitting room, then through the door to Evan’s bedroom. Isaac looked all around at the collection of foreign knick-knacks and weaponry scattered about. The western wall was entirely shelved and stuffed with books.

 

     Nailed to the wall above the bed was a tattered world map with hundreds of pins stuck on various places. Places their work had taken them over the years, Isaac observed.

 

     This was the first time he’d been in this room. Evan had never allowed him to cross the threshold before, and he was about to find out why as Lukas opened the “closet”. From the outside the door looked normal, built from wooden planks. But the opposite side was reinforced by metal bars, as was the small room beyond.

 

     Lukas explained, “ _This_ is the sundown room. Secured with iron, locks from inside and out, mostly sound-proof.” He frowned. “Evan’s _supposed_ to be in this room by nine o’clock on the full moon.”

“Yeah, we really fecked that one up, didn’t we?” grumbled Glenvar.

 

      There were no clothes in this closet. No boxes of junk, no shoes, hats, holiday decorations—nothing. Long claw marks were scraped into the walls and floors, some stained with smears of old blood. The crew dragged Bigbad inside this room and dropped it on the floor. The creature was panting harshly, red eyes looking sickly and weary.

 

     The moon’s power was beginning to wane. Sunlight would pour over the village in just a couple of hours, and then this nightmare would be over.

 

     Hopefully.

 

     “He’s really hurt. Shouldn’t we take him to Che?” asked Isaac.

Glenvar said, “Ain’t nothin’ he can do fer him, kiddo. ‘Least not ‘til we know the real damage in the mornin’.”

Lukas turned to the boy and asked, “You, uh, didn’t happen to see him eat anything _unusual_ , did you?”

Isaac looked confused. “Unusual? Like what?”

 

     “He means like, a shoe or pair of glasses or something,” answered Alaine. “Because if he did, we gotta make sure he horks it up before he transforms back, ‘else we got a ruptured bowel on our hands. And trust me, nobody wants that.”

Isaac’s eyes rounded in horror. “That can happen?” he blurted.

 

     He tried to think back, but the whole night was a jumbled mess. He could hardly stay upright in all his exhaustion.

“Um…Well…” The boy yawned. “He did eat most of an Evangeline soldier…”

 

     The crew shared a round of cringing and mumbling. Lukas suddenly found their gazes fixated on him. The captain for the night tossed his hands up in defeat. “Fine! I’ll do it, just to be safe,” he sighed dramatically.

 

     With one quick motion, he tugged the muzzle’s buckle and jumped back. The device slipped free and Bigbad thrashed its salivating head around with a snarl. “Alaine, your spear,” Lukas said flatly. Isaac watched curiously as the mermaid took the long spear off her back and passed it to him.

 

     Lukas wasted no time flipping the weapon around and jamming the blunt end between the beast’s snapping jaws. He shoved the handle down Bigbad’s throat, pumped it twice to gag it and then yanked it out.

 

     With a heave, an explosion of red muck came out with it. A foul, coppery stench filled the room and Isaac turned away in disgust, pulling the neck of his shirt over his nose.

 

     Swift and business-like, Lukas poked through the muck with the end of the spear. Plenty of soldier blood and half-digested gore to be found. Then he spotted something else glimmering among it, solid and gold. Lukas hooked it on the end of the weapon and held it up for all to see: a fancy golden wristwatch.

 

     “Ah-ha!” He smirked. “Ev always did have expensive taste…”

Glenvar stepped forward and snagged the watch. He slapped the blood-soaked device on his own wrist. “Yeah, but it looks better on me,” he decided.

 

     Lukas passed the spear back to Alaine, brushed his hands together and told the crew, “We’re done here. Let’s lock the mongrel down and pray he’s alive tomorrow. Good work tonight, team.” He flicked his gaze to Isaac, brow furrowed above. “Except you. You’re grounded! Go to your room and don’t come out ‘till your hair is gray.”

 

     Isaac’s voice cracked when he exclaimed, “W-what? What did I do?”

“You disobeyed orders and nearly got us mauled, Isaac! What on Gaia were you thinking?”

They exited the room together. Lukas slammed the door and turned the three deadbolts as Isaac replied, “You were about to kill Evan!”

 

     “Only because _you_ ruined our plan! I had a strategy, you know!”

“Well, I didn’t trust you to do it right!”

“Oh, as if you could?”

 

     Their voices were quickly escalating, louder and louder until the two were shouting in eachother’s faces. Alaine had enough and stormed between them, shoving them apart. She said, “Children, children, please! We’re all tired and cranky and soaked to the bone. Why don’t we clean up, have a nap, and then we can tear eachother apart when we’re good and rested?”

 

     Lukas and Isaac locked eyes for one more moment. Then slowly their shoulders dropped, jaws loosening. They murmured their agreements, then they and the rest of the crew began to disperse. They filed out the front door while Isaac trudged lifelessly to the overturned couch.

 

     He threw his body against it, tried to right it but his strength was completely sapped. Then Lukas appeared beside him. “On three,” Lukas said, taking hold of one side. “One…Two…Three!”

 

     Together they flipped the couch and pushed it back in its rightful spot, facing the fireplace. Isaac shrugged off the cape and tossed it over the back before collapsing onto the seat. He watched Lukas through one eye. The man reclined in the chair nearby, pulling off his boots and gloves like he was ready to call it a night.

 

     “Aren’t you going home?” mumbled Isaac.

Lukas replied with a shrug, “No reason to. Insomnia keeps me up night after night anyway. Figured I might as well stay here, make sure you don’t do anything stupid again until morning.”

 

     After a long pause, he added quietly, “I’ll need help dragging Evan to the infirmary in a couple hours. Think you can handle that?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Of course I can.”

 

     Then his heavy lids fell, and in less than a minute he was fast asleep.

 

*

 

     The previous night was like a ruined painting. Its edges bled into one another, the once defined picture now a wash of chaos.

 

     Evan opened his bleary eyes. For some time he could make sense of nothing. All he saw was a dim, unfamiliar room and the blurry shape of a person standing near the door. Their voice was a league beneath the sea. Slowly his nerves began to wake. And when they did, all he felt was pain from head to toe.

 

     His head was throbbing, teeth aching, body stinging…There were so many pains he could hardly define them all. He just knew that he’d turned last night, and for whatever reason he was not in the sundown room. Everything about that screamed “bad” to him.

 

     “Where…? What happened?” Evan slurred. He tried to sit up on his elbows and quickly realized that was a mistake. Sheer pain pushed him back down into the thin mattress beneath him.

 

     The person-shape came into focus. It was a dark-haired old satyr with smooth horns curving out from his forehead. He was clad in a white cotton coat, his cloven hooves clacking on the wood as he crossed the room. It was Che, and seeing his face after a blackout was never a good sign.

 

     Che rushed over and placed his hands on Evan’s shoulders. “No move so fast, Mr. Atlas,” he said. “Many breaks. Much blood. Head bone is egg.” He knocked on his own skull for emphasis.

 

     Evan cautiously reached up to his head, felt layers of gauze wrapped tightly around it. He tossed the blanket off his body, found himself mostly bare with more strips of gauze, stitches, and countless bandages covering mysterious wounds. His peg leg was not attached, nor was it anywhere to be seen. His clothes, his fancy cape, all gone. All he had on his person was a towel for modesty.

 

     He replaced the blanket and spoke, voice hoarse and weary, “Dr. Che, tell me what happened. Please. I didn’t…Do anything… _Evil_ , did I?” Just the thought made him wince.

 

     Che clasped his hands together, forcing a grin above anxious brown eyes. He replied with hesitation, “You talk to friend, okay? He wait outside for you. Stay here, no move.” The doctor quickly disappeared behind the wooden door. He did not return. Instead, it was Lukas who walked in barely a minute later.

 

     Evan’s let out a sigh of relief, letting his head fall back against the pillow. Whatever the beast did last night, at least his best friend survived it. Lukas had washed and changed out of his armor, now dressed in simple cotton clothes. There was no evidence of yesterday’s adventure except for a few scrapes and the exhaustion on his face.

 

     Lukas kneeled at the bedside and they silently pulled eachother into an embrace. There they held eachother for what felt like forever, until Lukas pulled away, clasping Evan’s shoulders. He told the captain sternly, “Don’t you _ever_ put us through that again, you mongrel.”

 

     Evan’s eyes rounded. “Oh, no. W-what did I do?” he asked breathlessly.

“Almost made me the new captain is what you did!” Lukas blurted. He shook his head and continued, “You ran amok all over the Forest of Refuge. Picked a fight with Elska, but she’s fine now. She’s gaian, she won’t turn or anything.”

“I _bit_ her? I bit one of my crew?” Evan gasped in horror.

 

     “Like I said, she’s fine! Che patched her up.” Lukas assured him. “Though, uh…I’m pretty sure she knows what you are now, if that concerns you.” He shrugged. If it makes you feel any better, no one understands her, so it’s not like she can blab to—”

 

     Evan threw his hands over his face, letting out a long, miserable groan. “I can’t believe this!” he mumbled against his palms. “What have I done? I’m a hazard, I’m a _cretin_! What kind of captain attacks his own crew?”

“Come on, don’t do this,” sighed Lukas. “We’re all alive, aren’t we? And we learned not to mix alcohol with the full moon. There’s a new one for the rule book.”

 

     “Lu,” Evan groaned, couldn’t bear to uncover his eyes and face his friend, “I thought I could still be a good person. Live a normal life. But I’ve done it again…” A shudder rattled him, voice low and weak. “I hurt the people I love. I…I can’t bear to live this way anymore…”

 

     Lukas’ lips curved ever so slightly, spreading into a solemn grin until he pressed them against Evan’s. The lycanthrope couldn’t help but lean into the kiss. Despite how much he hated himself, despite how much he felt he didn’t deserve it. Finally Lukas withdrew and asked, “How about you tough it out for my sake then?”

 

     His captain, his best friend, his secret lover from years long passed regarded him with a miserable frown. “Assuming I don’t end up killing you first,” Evan grumbled.

Lukas chuckled, just a gust from his nostrils. “Get over your damn self. Jeez, always so dramatic…”

 

     Lukas heard the doorknob turning behind him. Immediately he shot to his feet and saw Che’s face peeking through the doorway. “Eh,” the doctor began, clearing his throat, “more friends come to see. You want instead quiet?”

“No. Please, let them in,” replied Evan. He figured he had a lot of apologizing to do.

 

     Che stepped aside and one by one, Evan’s most trusted friends filed into the room. Glenvar, Alaine, Jeimos, Balthazaar, and Linde offered their hugs and reassurances. Just knowing they weren’t dead was enough for Evan. Finally one last person walked in: a boy with a heavy cape on his shoulders and heavier pain on his face.

 

     Isaac stood before Evan, taking a deep breath and trying to choose his next words carefully. They spilled out in an emotional jumble anyway. “How come you told everyone except me?” he croaked. His eyes held equal parts sadness and anger. Was he not part of the captain’s most trusted companions? It pained him to think all these years had been a lie!

 

     Evan hesitated. He threw a glance at the others, but they refused to meet his gaze. Then he turned back to the boy. “I’m very sorry. That was foolish and dishonest of me.”

 

     “You’ve been like a father to me since I was _ten_! How come you didn’t trust me?” the boy asked. “What mountain do I have to move to be a _real_ part of the crew? ‘Cause not matter what I do, you still treat me like a kid! Do you think I’m too stupid or something?”

 

     “No, Isaac, of course not!” Evan replied sharply. His next words came quietly, cautiously, “There are a lot of things about myself that I neglect to tell. I’ve always told myself it’s for the best, because if people saw all the colors to my past at once, I daresay they’d go blind.”

 

     After a moment to gather his thoughts, Evan looked around at each of his friends as he continued, “I think we all have some colors behind us. But in my case, the trail is red all the way back to the start.”

 

     He turned back to the boy. “I have done terrible, unforgivable things to people. People I loved, people I trusted, and who trusted me. I am not a good person, Isaac. I was always a monster, long before lycanthropy claimed me. I suppose this is just a long-winded way of saying…”

 

     Evan leaned back against the headboard, gaze drifting to the ceiling. “…That I’m afraid. Now that I have all of this, this home and this family…” He gestured around the room. “…Nothing terrifies me more than losing it all again.”

 

     The mercenaries stood around him, some quietly muttering their agreements. Isaac furrowed his brow as he put the pieces together. “You’re saying,” he queried slowly, “you were afraid I’d run away?”

 

     Evan forced a doleful smile. “You wouldn’t have been the first. But you would have broken my heart the most. I believe you’re the closest thing I shall ever have to a child of my own. And when I was your age, when I was so sickly with no hope of living a normal life, that was all that I ever wanted.”

 

     He almost chuckled as he gestured to the crew. “I never planned for a life like _this_. But I suppose beggars have no right to choose.” The man cleared his throat, his smile fading. “Anyway, er…After what you’ve seen tonight, I would understand if you never wanted to see my face again. I can’t apologize enough. As it turns out, I truly am a beast and I can never overcome that, no matter how hard I try.”

 

     Isaac looked back at the crew. They were silent, regarding him sheepishly. Then he told the captain, “I’m not afraid of you. I fear no beast, remember? If anything, _you_ should watch out for _me_.” He grinned a little, pulling the scorched, dirty cape from his shoulders. He then draped it over Evan’s.

 

     “Here’s your birthday gift,” the boy said. “You know why I chose it, right? ‘Cause I don’t wanna lose you! I don’t care about your past and I don’t care if you have lycanthropy. You’re just…You’re just family to me.” He shrugged.

 

     Isaac felt some hands on his shoulders, another rustling his hair. Hands of the crew behind him—the people who loved him and cared for him for as long as he could remember. Evan could have wept, if not for his pride and exhaustion.

 

     He drew the cape tighter around himself, replied simply, “Likewise, boy.”

 

*

 

     Though lycanthropy had terrorized Evan for most of his life, it had also saved him more times than he could count. By that evening the worst of his wounds had mended just enough to be discharged from the infirmary.

 

     His friends left hours ago to “let him rest”. So Evan hobbled back to the compound alone, wanting nothing more than to simply sit in his office and get back to work sorting through contracts and dispatching mercs. Something mundane, something _normal_.

 

     But it seemed his mercs had other plans, for Isaac greeted him at the compound’s gate and beckoned him into the dining hall. Inside was a bountiful feast steaming on the table with a bull moose’s head as the centerpiece, flowery garland and baubles hanging from its antlers.

 

     A crowd of people filled the room with drinks and food in hand, greeting Evan with a round of whistles and applause.

“Happy birthday, Captain!” they cheered.

“Welcome back, Captain!” they cheered.

“Missed you, Captain!” they cheered.

 

     The shock on Evan’s face gave way to a big smile. Lukas threw and arm around him and led him further into the room, seating him at the head of the table. A plate of moose roast and sweet potatoes sat before him. The usual beer in his favorite stein had been replaced with tea. After the booze-induced disaster yesterday, Evan couldn’t say he was surprised.

 

     The real surprise was all the faces around him. It was everyone who had failed to show up at his party yesterday, mercenaries and villagers alike. All the people he trusted with his secret, and today Isaac was among them, sipping orange juice from a beer stein.

 

     After what he’d done, Evan couldn’t believe they wanted to be near him at all, much less celebrate him like this. Even Elska showed up with gauze wrapped diagonally over her equine shoulder. She limped towards him, heavy hooves _clomp-clomp-clomping_ against the wooden floor.

 

     Her expression was stiff, fists clenched at her sides. At first Evan thought he’d get socked in the jaw. But Elska did no such thing. Rather, she unclenched her fist above the table and something fell out of her hand with a clatter.

 

     Evan quirked an eyebrow, staring at the little white object in bewilderment. Then his brows shot up when he realized…

“Oh! My tooth!” he exclaimed. “Er, thank you, Elska. Perhaps Che can, uh…Stuff it back in there or…Something…”

 

     He knew the centaur didn’t understand a word he was saying, so he tipped his head to show his gratitude.

 

     Elska’s expression remained flat as she tipped her head back to him. Then turned and _clomp-clomp-clomped_ away, joining Olof’s side by the fireplace.

 

     The feast lasted until well after dark. That night Evan walked home sober under the waning moon. He opened the door to a disaster, but he had only himself to blame. This mess was tomorrow’s problem.

 

     Evan stepped into his bedroom and saw his old cape hanging on the wall with the rest of his gear. He tossed that old rag aside and put the new cape in its place. That night he slept more soundly than he had in years, thankful to see this birthday through.

 

     And for once, looking forward to many more.

 

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and criticisms are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading. :)


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